Take My Heart and Please Don't Break It
by Tinkerbellehnw
Summary: Just random Samtana drabbles. There isn't enough out there for these two. Rated T for language.
1. Game On

Sam walked up right next to Santana as she was reapplying lipgloss in the mirror of her locker, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She didn't.

He cleared his throat and her eyes only turned his way. He figured that was good enough.

"So, uh, I've gotta pick up the little monsters from swim practice tomorrow." He told her. She didn't respond. "So I might be a little bit late for our date."

"We don't have a date." She responded.

"I thought we were going to Breadstix."

"I went there last week with Mercedes and Kurt. Were we on a date?"

"Um..." He cocked his head.

"Look, Trouty." She turned her full attention to him. "You like me. That's blatantly obvious. And, hell, who could blame you? I'm smokin' hot and the head bitch in this place. And I kinda like you too. You're cute, in a weird kind of way. Like maybe a three legged dog who has a bark that sounds like 'please love me'. But if you think I'm gonna be your Prom Queen, you're sadly mistaken. I don't date. The closest I've ever come to a boyfriend is the 'friends with benefits' sitch I had with Puckerman before Berry snatched up his balls and locked them in her pot of gold. It's just not in me to be someone's girlfriend. The most you're gonna get out of me is a couple hot makeout sessions, maybe a dinner or two, and if you're lucky, the best sex you'll ever have. Take it or leave it, Lisa Rinna."

He chuckled at her. "Game on, Lopez."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not giving up that easy. You think all we're ever gonna be is friends, but you're wrong.

"When have I ever said we were friends? I mean, we've hung out and you text me funny shit sometimes. But that doesn't mean we're friends."

"I am gonna be your man, Santana. You can count on that." He walked away from her before she could respond, but threw over his shoulder. "And it _is_ a date tomorrow."

Santana slammed her locker but as she glared down the hall at him, a smile creeped across her face. "Stupid Trouty Mouth." She muttered.


	2. The Prenup

Sam was sitting in the kitchen eating when Santana threw a stack of papers in front of him.

"What's this?" He asked.

"Think of it as a prenup." She responded. "Santana style. If we're gonna get married, I have some rules."

He sighed. "I knew it was too easy when I proposed and you said yes."

"Do you want me to marry you or not? These are my conditions. Read."

He put down his spoon and looked at the first paper. "No name-calling during fights?"

"That one's actually for you." She told him. "See? I can be nice. I promise not to make fun of your mouth except to call you Trouty because that's our thing. That's the exception. Also, it's okay if the names are used to make the both of us laugh so hard we forget why we were fighting in the first place. My personal favorites are Thundercunt and Cockmonger."

He laughed loudly at that last part.

"See?" She giggled along with him. "It's working."

"We're not fighting." He argued.

"Exactly. Next rule."

"Don't ever stop calling me beautiful. Aw, San. That's sweet." He looked back at the paper and continued. "Even when we're old and our parts don't work, I'll still wanna know that I turn your viagra on and am your only girl." He bit his lip and snickered. "I promise I'll always tell you you're beautiful. Next up. Just because we're married doesn't mean we can't smoke some quality weed and watch Harold and Kumar. Valid point."

"I thought you'd like that." She smiled, proud of herself.

"If I die young, your job as my widower is to go through my things and throw all the embarassing shit out before my mother can get to it." He looked at her over the paper.

"What?" She asked. "If you were in my shoes, would you want your mother knowing you've got a bright green vibrator and two or three pairs of crotchless panties?"

He ignored her. "If you can afford to buy a house with a den, by all means do it. Just know that this means I will be throwing down some cash for a 'drawing room'. San, you don't draw."

"Yeah, no shit. And you're not a fucking bear. Let's get real here, though. We both just want a room where we can get drunk and watch porn in peace."

"Forget about Valentine's Day." He put the paper down. "Come on. That's a trap. If I forgot Valentine's Day, you'd have me murdered."

"Sammy, Valentine's Day is a bullshit holiday. I don't want flowers or chocolate. Well, maybe chocolate, but only if I'm on my period. All I honestly want you to do for me for Valentine's Day is make me cum that night."

"Alright." He stood up. "I've read enough so far. I'll do whatever you want me to do. That's how our relationship's always been."

"We need guidelines in this marriage for it to be successful!" She tried following him down the hall.

"You sound like you swallowed Rachel." He said before he closed the bathroom.

"I did!" She yelled back. "Once, in college when you and I were on a break and she decided she wanted to try something new. Keep that in mind buddy. I've got other options out there!" He didn't answer and she rolled her eyes, going back to the kitchen to work on her list.


	3. Sookie Stackhouse

"Is that you San?" Sam yelled when he heard the door of their apartment open.

"Who else are you expecting in our apartment?" She responded, hanging her coat up.

"Come in here, I've been working on something for the wedding."

She groaned. "I just said yes, can't we hold off on any plans for, like, a year or something?"

"Funny."

When she sat down on the couch she noticed he had his guitar. "Oh God."

He looked slightly offended. "I thought you liked it when I sing."

"I do. But I'm not walking down the aisle to a song from Avatar."

His eyes got wide. "That's an awesome idea."

"No." She shot him down quickly. "Can you hurry? This has been a horrible day and I wanna go take a bath."

"One thing, Santana. I only asked you to do one thing for me."

She gritted her teeth and just exploded. "Oh that is horseshit! You asked me to move to another state with you when we were barely out of high school and I did it. You asked me to go through a long ass ceremony you know I'm gonna hate just so we can spend the rest of our lives together, which I already wanted to do anyway. I still don't see what a damn piece of paper changes. The only good part about this circus is gonna be that I get some bling, and I get to look smoking hot walking down the aisle. You remember that I uprooted my entire life so I could be with you, right? I had a full scholarship to Ohio State and my parents would have let me live in their house as long as I wanted. But I gave that up to go to a community college in fucking Hendersonville, which I'd never heard of until we moved there, and work my ass off so I could earn a partial scholarship to law school. And I'd do it all over again because I love you. And now I love Nashville. Stupid Nashville. I probably have a horrible accent from being here too long. I can't even remember the last time I said something en espanol. Mi abuela is gonna have me shipped off to Columbia to stay with my aunt just so I can get back in touch with my roots."

Sam started chuckling.

"You know, I caught myself singing along to a song the other day that had the lines 'I was drunk the day my mama got out of prison' in it?" She continued. " I mean, I might as well start perfecting my Sookie Stackhouse accent now and call everyone Sugar Dumplin'!"

Sam grabbed his sides as he laughed.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" She asked, still completely serious.

"Baby, I think it may be time for me to call you Thundercunt."

She stared at him, biting her bottom lip, her shoulders shaking. "You're an idiot."

"Do you feel better now that you've gotten all that off your chest?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I guess."

"If you really wanted to go to Columbia for, like, a week, I'd be cool with it." He grinned. "And also, Sookie's from Louisiana and I don't ever remember her calling anyone that."

She swatted the side of his head playfully. "Shut up. I'm the one who started you on that show. Can I go take my bath now?"

"I'll be here waitin' for you when you get out Sugar Dumplin'!"

She sighed and laughed to herself all the way down the hall.


	4. Love Notes

A/N: Much thanks for the reviews. I have so much fun writing Santana and I love the idea of her and Sam together so much, so hopefully y'all enjoy these too!

Santana threw the front door of her empty house open, yelling. "Voy a matar a ese monstruo Santana was sitting in 5th period World History, bored out of her mind. It also so happened, she shared this class (and her desk) with Sam. She could tell he was writing and she knew he had trouble with school so she left him alone. She wasn't a complete bitch. But when she looked over and saw him drawing a monkey astronaut, she kicked his leg lightly.

He looked over at her, eyebrows raised. She nodded to his paper, signaling for him to give it to her. When he did, she scribbled something quickly and handed it back, giggling silently.

It was a picture of a fish holding a sign that said 'I love Smurfs'.

He smiled and doodled something else, sliding the paper back to her. She frowned slightly when she saw a caricature of herself wearing a sombrero and a shirt that said 'I love Trout'.

_You racist asshole._ She wrote back.

_It's not you. It's Snixxx._

She rolled her eyes and glared at him before responding. _Sure it is. I don't love you, Smurf Boy!_

_Snixxx does._

_No, she doesn't. In fact, she's tried to kill you on several occasions. It's because of me that you're still alive. Just two days ago I saved your stupid ass from a plot involving poisonous chapstick._

He shook a little, laughing. _Well, my fair maiden, I guess I'm in your debt. How can I ever make it up to you?_

She didn't mean to smile while reading that. _You can make it up to me by using that gigantic mouth of yours for sexual favors, instead of spouting stupid Smurf language._

_Never! I'll be shouting how beautiful I think you are in Na'vi even as Snixxx rips my still-beating heart from my chest._

She had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing at that. Okay, maybe she thinks he's funny. When he's not being a dork. Although, that's kind of funny too. And she kind of likes it when he gives her shit right back instead of being intimidated. But that doesn't mean she likes him.

She realized she'd gone far too long without responding and simply wrote, _Dork_

_Not your best insult. What were you thinking about? Me?_

_Yes, as a matter of fact. I was thinking about how you could have a very successful career as a baby polisher. You know, in places like SoCal there's all those vain bitches who only like their babies as long as it takes for the cuteness to wear off? Well you could stick the babies' heads in your mouth and give them back that new baby shine so their mothers would love them again._

This time he had to cover his mouth. _Much better,_

"Miss Lopez?" Mr. Andes, their teacher, caused her to whip her head up. "Perhaps you can tell us which Emperor conquered the Persian Empire?"

She shrugged. "Jake Gyllenhaal?"

"Close." He responded. "But maybe it would be best if you listened to the rest of my lecture instead of flirting with Mr. Evans."

She could feel herself turning red then, and her mouth turned into a scowl, but beside her, Sam's smile couldn't get any bigger.


	5. I'm Glad You Came

Disclaimer: Kinda smutty. I regret nothing. Continuous thanks for the reviews!

"Dios Mio. Joder. Joder Sam." Santana was chanting. "Maldito!"

"San," He looked at her from between her legs. "Shh."

She propped herself up on her elbows. "Trouty, did I give you permission to stop what you were doing? Get your tongue back down there, now."

He laughed and resumed his previous actions. Not long after, she started again.

"Si, justo ahi." She mumbled, despite the fact that Sam couldn't understand her directions. "Joder. Esto se siente tan bien."

He stopped again and gave her a look.

"What?" She asked, annoyed.

"Are you aware of how fucking loud you're being? If my parents come home and hear you moaning in Spanish, I won't be able to see you for a month."

"I can't help it." She responded. "As soon as I feel that gigantic mouth on me, my brain goes to liquid and Espanol is what comes to mind."

"The spanish isn't the problem, babe."

"Fine." She exhaled. "I'll try to focus on my volume."

He shook his head and started again. To her credit, she seemed to be focusing pretty hard on not yelling. She was biting her lip and her hands were balling up handfuls of his sheets. Her legs tightened around his shoulders and, although she wasn't saying anything, there were some pretty desperate groans coming from her.

Sam had to prop himself on his elbows so he could spread her thighs apart and he wouldn't be smothered. Every muscle in her body seemed to be contracting and he figured she didn't have long.

Santana's breathing became erratic and one of her hands shot up to grab onto a pillow but she was too late. Her world exploded around her and her lip escaped from between her teeth.

"Mierda! Joder! Maldia sea!" She said in rapid succession, before finally yelling. "Me jodes lado!"

"Shit." Sam whispered under his breath, getting up and running to his bedroom door, wiping his mouth off. He cracked it and didn't hear any noise so he figured they were still safe. When he turned back around, he saw that Santana was coming back to reality.

She sighed contently and scooted up in the bed, closing her legs. When she noticed Sam was staring at her she raised an eyebrow. "I tried." She shrugged.

He chuckled and ran both his hands through his hair. "I think we're gonna have to get you a muzzle."

"Gag and bind me baby." She smiled.


	6. Jersey Girl

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Santana asked without so much as glancing at Sam.

"You're not even looking at me."

"I can feel you bouncing the floorboards. It's making me nervous."

"Okay." He leaned against the lockers. "There is somethin' I wanna ask. Me and you, we've been hangin' out for a while now and you had dinner with my parents last week. So...are we, like... what are we doing?"

She smiled, amused and continued switching her books out. "Well I'll tell you what we're still _not_ doing. Not that I haven't tried. I swear, Trouty, if it wasn't for the fact that I catch you checking me out all the damn time, I'd be questioning your sexuality."

He looked around, embarassed. "I don't do casual sex, alright? Well, I mean, I guess I did before I transferred here but it was just 'cause I liked her a lot and thought she liked me too but..." He stopped when Santana held her hands up.

"Stop." She demanded. "So are you trying to ask me if I wanna be your girlfriend?"

"Yes." He sighed. "I mean, if you want."

She shrugged. "Yeah sure. Why not?"

"Cool." He smiled. "Um, actually there's more." He could tell she didn't like that, so he rushed out the next bit. "We've got a home game this Friday and the girlfriends of the guys on the team usually wear our jerseys to school that day. I mean, Tina wears Mike's, I saw Rachel wearin' Puck's last week. So, if you wanted, you could wear mine." He gulped when he finished.

"Sam, I have to wear my uniform." She answered. "Sue gets mad when we don't wear them everyday to school. She'd flip her shit if I didn't wear it on game day."

"Oh, yeah." He shook his head. "Forgot. It's cool. Wouldn't want you gettin' in trouble."

"I'd do it otherwise." She added, cheering him up. "Promise."

"Don't worry about it." He shrugged it off. "I'll get to have you there cheerin' for me at least. Let me walk you to class?"

She shoved her things into his chest and laughed when he grunted. "Thank you honey." She told him playfully.

Two days later when Santana got out of her car, she noticed Sam across the parking lot, talking with Mike, Puck, Finn, Artie, Tina, and Rachel. Sure enough, Tina and Rachel both wore McKinley High football jerseys. Tina, number 23 and Rachel, number 20 (she was also being held tighter than normal by Puck since Finn seemed to have a huge problem realizing they were no longer a couple.)

Santana smoothed out her Cheerios uniform and swayed up to the group, linking her arm through Sam's.

"Morning, babe." She greeted him. "Hey boys. Tina. Rach, red looks good on you."

"Thank you." Rachel answered, suspiciously.

Beside her, Sam was beaming. Not because Santana was being nice to his friends or that she'd acted like they were an actual couple in front of people, but because on her cheek she'd painted the number six, his number, as big as she could.


	7. Hope For the Future

"I'm so sick of college." Santana grumbled.

"You just started Senior year of high school." Sam pointed out.

"My point exactly. Why am I having to take all these stupid aptitude tests, and look at schools, and have meetings with Miss Pillsbury? I don't even know what I wanna go to school for! The only thing I'm good at besides sex and being a bitch is cheerleading. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Maybe you can be a professional cheerleader." He offered. "You can follow people around the grocery store and cheer when they find a bargain. Or cheer them on at the gym."

"That's so funny." She rolled her eyes. "No need to ask what you're going to do with your life. I'm the girlfriend of the next attraction at Dollywood. You'll load people up in your mouth and take them on a tour of the Tennessee hills as you play the banjo for them."

"Maybe you should become a comedian since you think you're so hilarious."

She smiled momentarily then huffed. "Serious time, Trouty. I have no clue what I'm supposed to do. I mean, what am I even good at?"

"Arguing, making people cry, and running from the police."

"Stop making me laugh." She chuckled.

"Look, babe. Whatever it is you decide you wanna do, I'm here for you. You wanna be an international popstar, I'll be your roadie. You wanna be president, I'll be your campaign manager."

"Would you be my first lady?"

He smiled. "I think I'd look kinda funny in heels. San, listen, you can do whatever you wanna do. That's a given. All you gotta do is figure out what it is."

She smiled. "Fuck you, Sammy. Stop being wonderful."

He laughed and kissed her forehead. "For you? Never. And by the way, if I ever worked at Dollywood, I'd be a Johnny Cash impersonator. You wanna be my June?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed into her hands. "I love you." Gasping, her whole face brightened. "Oh my God! I said it without having to have you say it first! And without feeling like I'm gonna have a panic attack!"

She held out her fist for a fist bump.

"Feel better?"

"Not about my future."

"We'll figure it out." He promised her. "And if not, my offer stands."

She shoved him off the couch.


End file.
